Sub Rosa
by Iceworth
Summary: Aided only by dreams that grow more and more disturbing and a few odd personality spheres, Chell must rescue the six people trapped in Aperture long ago, including her mother, before GLaDOS's test tracks kill her — if she can even find them.  AU.
1. Security Virus

**_A/N:_**_ This is to fill a prompt on the kink meme for a Chell/GLaDOS Beauty and the Beast AU._

**_Warning:_**_ Contains Chell/GLaDOS (since I know some people theorise that they're related, and therefore would be squicked by this), physical/sexual abuse and eating disorder triggers._

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter One<strong>

* * *

><p>"I feel like a ninja," said Craig.<p>

"Ninjas don't hang out in vans opposite parking lots," said Doug.

"Then I feel like a government ninja."

"Except the government gave up on this."

"Shut up and get back to work, will you?"

It was just another day in the life. Every two weeks Doug Rattman and Craig Florin had met for almost fourteen years in the same van parked across the road from Aperture Science Innovations, and continued to beat their head against the wall in the hopes that maybe it would knock the wall down sometime. In the beginning they'd been hopeful, then they became jaded and frustrated, but those stages had passed long ago. Now it was part of life to go nowhere and it was more of a bonding exercise than anything else, a way of clinging to a past they could never recover with no real hope left. They were probably long dead by now.

Doug played with the laptop on his lap, using the wireless connection to try for the dozenth time in a row to hack into the security system with a new virus, whilst on a nearby seat Craig constructed a virus of his own. Whoever lived in Aperture now had revamped and upgraded the system completely over the years, but they were not completely in the dark. Craig had built the first computer systems along with Montague and had managed to successfully predict a few of the changes, which was better than nothing.

It was a pity Montague wasn't here anymore. She'd been invaluable. She'd have gotten into the place _years_ ago.

Outside, the white clouds that layered the sky refused to let in the slightest ray of sun, casting a dingy light on the small parking lot outside Aperture's lobby. Aperture's lobby looked as small as a normal clinic, but Doug knew not to let appearances deceive him. Aperture stretched for miles and miles underground. Johnson had been a big dreamer, and with Montague by his side the pair had been unstoppable.

Until fourteen years ago.

"Truth be told," Doug massaged his temples. "I'm not sure there's anyone in there anymore."

"Someone's definitely _in_ there, if not one of ours," said Craig. "And some kidnappers keep their victims for years upon years."

"I hope that's true." Half of Doug had accepted they'd break in and find six skeletons. The other half dared hope they'd be alive in there, somewhere, fourteen years stolen from them but _alive_.

"There's something in there someone wants enough to not have abandoned the place," said Craig. "Otherwise we'd have been able to get in years ago. Black Mesa was practically cleaned out in that inquiry, so it's not them, but whoever it is hasn't sold any of Caroline's patents so I don't know what the hell they're doing. Hell, the _government_ would have been able to get in if whoever it was ditched the place. They even tried blowing the place up..."

_That_ had ended in disaster. SWAT had been in, the nation's top hackers and even the _world's_ top hackers had tried to save the people inside Aperture. Frustrated after a fruitless, six-month operation the government had decided to blow up its way in. But even ordinary bombs had found themselves activated far away from Aperture causing them to close the case and give up on the five adults and single child inside. "It's not worth it," the representative had told Doug. "I'm sorry for your losses, we all are. But more people have died trying to get them _out_ than there are people in there."

Aperture may have been huge in scope, but there'd only been seven of them, not including Rick's nephew. Cave Johnson had wanted to expand after the GLaDOS project had been unveiled to the world along with all the other inventions and contraptions they'd kept hidden, possibly thrusting the world into a future by decades, if not centuries, but...

Whatever had happened had happened before it could.

The thing was, nobody _knew_ what happened. One day Aperture went into lockdown and never came out of it. Six people had been trapped inside — Cave Johnson, Caroline Montague, Rick Jones, Junior Jones, Wheatley Baker and Selissa Rattman. None of them ever came out again. Only Craig and Doug had been spared from the lockdown; Doug had been looking after a sick Chell, and Craig's mother had just died.

Doug hit the enter key of his laptop, eyes glazing over already. Every second Saturday was like this, a mockery of a monument to a past that would never come back. Once upon a time he thought that the lockdown was some malfunction, that the people inside had long since starved to death, but...

But something was _in there_. Something fought his and Craig's attempts to get back in. Something wanted to be left alone. Something had likely completed the GLaDOS project and used the operating system to his advantage. If he didn't know better he'd think it was GLaDOS herself, but she had never become fully operational. She'd been close to finish when Chell got sick, and whilst Caroline had big dreams involving the Genetic Lifeform and Disc Operation System, GLaDOS had just been an ordinary control centre. Certainly not capable of sentience as Johnson and Caroline had hoped. Though it was mainly Caroline who'd hoped for it, GLaDOS had been her baby...

His laptop beeped. Doug ignored it at first, until Craig peered over his shoulder. "Um," said Craig.

"Eh?" said Doug, looking down at his computer.

Red letters blared at him:

ATTEMPT SUCCESSFUL. SECURITY FUNCTIONS DISABLED.

Both men sat in stunned silence.

"Did you just _get in_?" said Craig.

Both men continued to stare at the screen, and then leapt into action. Craig dug out the guns from under the seat, handing one to Doug. Doug grabbed his phone. Who knew what would be in there?

"I don't get it," said Craig as they stepped out, Doug with his laptop under his arm. "We've been trying for years, why _now_?"

"It could be a trap," said Doug.

"Maybe we should call the police."

"We may have a very narrow window of opportunity here," said Doug. "If you're uncertain, stay here and call for help if I don't —"

"You're not going in there alone," said Craig.

The weeds had sprung up between the cracks of the tarmac, the faded white lines of the parking lot broken by shrubbery. The rose bush that sat by the entrance had grown very ratty over the years and out of control.

For the first time in almost fourteen years the doors to Aperture Science Innovations sprung open at their approach. Doug saw his reflection in the spotless glass. The stuffed armchairs inside looked as good as new, the carpet flush with unfaded colour, and the desk in front of them free of dust.

"Someone _has_ been living here," said Craig. "I'd think it was our lot if I didn't know any better..."

A red carpet led them to a lift which opened at their approach. Craig stepped inside, gun in hand, eyes glancing about wildly.

"I should send Chell a message just in case this goes wrong," said Doug, digging his phone out. Craig kept a gun in his hand as Doug fiddled with the keys. "Oh, damn, something's interfering with the reception."

"How odd," said Craig, forehead crinkling in suspicion. "You'd think we wouldn't have been able to get in at all if something's causing interference... I don't like this. Leave your laptop here and get out your gun, who knows what the hell we'll find down below?"

"I'm not letting it go," said Doug. He brought out his gun and handed it over to Craig, stuffing his phone back in his pocket and clinging to the laptop. "We might need it."

"As you say," said Craig, gripping both guns tightly.

The lift sank into the bowels of the ex-salt mines of Michigan. Doug looked up and met the glowing red eye of a camera. Security may have been disabled, but its mere presence crept him out.

They stepped out of the lift into a large, white room. A grey grid, like a track for some kind of wheeled contraption, spread across the ceiling lining every panel. Doug couldn't remember that, it was new. Off-white panels lined the floors and walls. There was a gap between them and the ledge opposite, across which a glowing blue bridge spanned. Thick black writing scrawled across the door.

"Is this a hologram?" said Doug, looking down as they stepped across the bridge. It emitted a faint heat reminiscent of a summer's day. Craig went ahead, guns at the ready. "Someone's been raiding our database. Cave was designing this..."

"They've been here fourteen years," said Craig grimly. "What do you expect?"

Doug glanced at the writing on the mechanical door. It didn't look like ordinary graffiti, more like the scrawlings of a madman with no regard for the Enrichment Centre he defiled. Mathematical formulas clogged up the door as well as what looked like an ingredient list for cake. Only one line seemed to make sense, abruptly cut off:

_Anger core is yelling again I wish she would shut up I can't hear myself thi_

Well. "Make sense" was relative. The door opened as they approached.

A corridor awaited. Through grids on either side, turrets stood, their red lights dead. A security camera followed them, moving as they did.

Doug stopped. "Craig," he said.

"Yes?"

"Security's disabled, but why are the cameras still working?"

Swearing, Craig jumped as if he'd been burned. But the cameras continued to gaze at them, and nothing appeared suddenly out of a corner. The turrets didn't come to life, continuing to sit there, dead.

"Did you hear something?" said Craig.

They paused. From the distance, Doug heard shouting. "I think I did."

They strained their ears.

In the distance, echoes distorted what sounded like a woman's voice. Doug couldn't make out the words.

"Does that sound like fear, or anger to you?" said Craig.

Chills crept down Doug's spine as he remembered the writing. "Anger."

"I thought as much," said Craig. "Come on —"

THUD.

Both men whirled around. The door had shut beside them, but it wasn't what made the noise. In front of them on the path they'd just come through lay an enormous cube.

Doug stared. "That's the Companion Cube!"

"It's still around?" said Craig. "Bloody hell, how did it get here?"

Doug looked up at the white ceiling. "Portals. Someone portalled it here, and managed it without a gun."

"How? And why?"

They both stared at the Companion Cube. The little pink hearts on either side glowed with dim light.

Then it began to play music.

It wasn't any kind of music Doug had heard before. It sounded reminiscent of a cooing pigeon in a robot, crossed with a baby. A single, little, sad tune, almost like someone's voice.

"The Companion Cube never sang before," said Craig in wonder.

Doug bent beside the cube, touching its surface. "I know Caroline programmed — "

"Welcome to the Aperture Science Computer-Aided Enrichment Center," said a sudden, mechanical voice.

With the screeching of wheels, one of the panels opened above them. A large metal claw dropped through, closing around Craig's waist and lifting him into the air.

"Congratulations," continued the voice. The words sounded mechanical and out of sync. "You have stumbled into an Aperture Science trap, model number thirteen. If you have a complaint about your experiences of this product, please contact an Aperture Science Public Representative today. Except don't, because he's an idiot."

Craig writhed in the metal claw's grip. He raised his guns but wires pulled them out of his grip like rubber tentacles, drawing them into the ceiling never to be seen again. He looked down at Doug and bellowed, "Run!"

"Aperture Science would remind you that guests are prohibited from leaving without signing out," said the disembodied voice. A metal claw pinned his sides together, lifting him bodily into the air. "Aperture Science has need of both of you. That virus was clever, by the way, and it is unfortunate we had to accept it into our own systems before we could send it to a more appropriate destination. Your daughter is very pretty, by the way, Doug Rattman. Just like her mother."

Doug froze.

"Aperture Science would like to add a disclaimer that we have no intention of fixing the enormous hole we left in your personal computer's security," the voice continued. "But as it happens we have a solution to another problem that Aperture Science is currently dealing with. Of course, this will work out to the advantage of one of three of us. Guess which."

-o-O-o-

At the Rattman family home, where a nineteen-year-old girl puttered about munching on a chocolate, the family computer lit up, the red light of the in-built monitor webcam flaring to life. The girl blinked as whiteness completely wiped the screen for a long moment, before blue words appeared.

HELLO CHELL

-o-O-o-

"One of you possesses an item Aperture Science has a shortage of," said the voice. "In return for this item, one of you shall go free."

_A conscience?_ Doug wanted to say. What weirdo had broken in and claimed the facility for their own?

Both men hung silent, gazing at one another. Craig licked his lips. "What do you want?" he said.

Doug admired him at that moment. Craig held not a squeak of fear in his tone, nothing but confidence. Doug was sure he'd have sounded like a squalling victim.

"One of you is in possession of one human adult female, nineteen years of age, in good condition," said the voice. Doug's eyes threatened to bug out of his head. "I require this specimen. For science."

"Chell is not on the table," said Doug.

-o-O-o-

Chell Rattman stared at the computer. Spotting the red light, her eyes widened. She bent the foil of the eaten chocolate into shape and moved it to obscure the lens of the camera, the material hanging off the top of the monitor like a cheap Christmas decoration.

She hit the control, alt, delete buttons but nothing happened except for the words changing.

APERTURE SCIENCE REQUIRES YOUR COOPERATION. PLEASE PROCEED TO THE CLOSEST APERTURE SCIENCE COMPUTER-AIDED ENRICHMENT CENTER TO RECEIVE FURTHER INSTRUCTION

-o-O-o-

"I would reconsider if I were you," said the voice. Then, "Well, no, if I were you I wouldn't have been dumb enough to walk right into a facility that's been under lockdown for thirteen years and seven months. Congratulations, you have both hereby been nominated for the moron award. No doubt you will win. This is probably the greatest achievement of your little lives."

"What the hell would you want Chell for?" said Craig.

"Aperture Science information is classified," said the voice.

"Who _are_ you?"

There was a pause.

"I am the Genetic Lifeform and Disc Operating System."

"This is some kind of cruel joke," Craig spat. "GLaDOS can't talk without someone to instruct her — "

"That _is_ her voice," said Doug. "I recognise her now. I was there when Montague did the recording."

"Plainly someone's just using her to spook us — "

"Let me state this in layman's terms," said GLaDOS. "I have several people down here. No doubt their lives have been benefited by being away from your stupidity, but you may wish to see them alive."

Both men froze and stared at one another.

"They're alive?" said Doug. He wriggled. The grip around his waist hurt.

"They are," said GLaDOS. "However I have no current intention of releasing them into the wild. But in order to set off a chain of events under which certain circumstances may come to pass that I _may_ consider their release... your daughter's presence is required. Presuming the brat is still _alive_, of course, and that your terrible parenting did not murder her."

"Is this for real?" Craig muttered.

Doug opened his mouth, but before he could speak the claw tightened around his middle. He winced with pain.

"I would reconsider," said GLaDOS. "If I were you."

Craig looked at him. "One of us needs to get out of here," he said.

Doug caught the meaning._ Lie. Say you'll give her over, then bail and get help._

"Alright," wheezed Doug, looking to the security camera behind Craig. "I'll bring her here."

"No, you won't," said GLaDOs. "You are to send her here, alone. Of course, you won't, as you are lying, but..." The claw let him go. Doug collapsed onto the floor, wheezing. "But you will decide it is heavily in the favour of you both and everyone you know if she were to come. Aperture Science wishes to remind you that if anyone else should come near the grounds, your friend here..." the claw around Craig's middle tightened. Craig grunted. "Will die. Aperture Science encourages you to hire a lawyer if you feel the Genetic Lifeform and Disc Operating System is in violation of the laws of robotics, because Aperture Science has never tested the incinerator room on a lawyer before."

"Go," croaked Craig.

The door behind Doug opened. The Companion Cube had vanished. "And don't come back," said GLaDOS.


	2. Caroline

**_A/N:_**_ Thank you to all who reviewed, it really makes my day to know this is enjoyed. :D_

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><p><strong>Chapter Two<strong>

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><p>Twilight shrouded the atmosphere outside in a blueish hue by the time her father stumbled through the front door. Chell's brow furrowed with deep lines slanted over annoyed eyes, tapping the desk with her nailbitten fingers as she glared at the monitor. She glanced up as her father approached.<p>

He didn't look well. His hair seemed a bit rougher than usual, his eyes dull as he peered at the monitor. "What are you doing? Going through all the computer files? Why?" He frowned at the foil that hung over the camera, but when he moved to take it off, Chell touched his arm.

He glanced at her in alarm.

Did he know?

Chell drew up a word processor.

_While you were gone some hacker or virus got into the system, mentioned Aperture Science_, she typed._ It knew my name and told me to go there. It changed the desktop image as well._

Doug sighed. His lack of surprise deepened Chell's frown.

_I've been combing through the system because the virus scanner didn't pick up anything. I've only found one thing so far. Our hacker may be a "Caroline", it's hard to tell, it seems too obvious. Listen to this._

She clicked the desktop button. Everything on the screen minimised, leaving a picture of the Aperture Science logo. Chell clicked a sound file, launching another window.

Through the speakers came a tiny, robotic voice. "Her name is Caroline."

Chell typed, _Could that be our hacker?_

Doug laughed, but it lacked mirth. "I doubt it, though it's her voice, strangely enough," he said. He pulled up a dining room chair beside Chell. "That sounds like one of the turrets. Caroline Montague recorded their voices and Johnson modified them. Do you remember Caroline, Chell? Some of us called her Montague, or Monty."

Chell blinked. _Should I know her?_ she typed.

"You only met her once," said Doug, his voice a low murmur. "So I'm not surprised you don't remember her. She baked the cake for your fifth birthday, that hot day we had the pool party." He ran a hand through his wiry, black hair. "You asked her why she wore long sleeves. That was before you got sick, before it got bad..." He sighed. "But by then, Caroline was long gone."

Chell frowned. Her mind conjured the image of a thin woman with dark hair. She had been young, Chell had thought she was someone's older sister. She'd sat hunched in a chair on the deck underneath the umbrella as if hiding from the sun, her long hair brittle. Her face was fuzzy in Chell's memory.

_Didn't she work at Aperture?_ said Chell.

Doug nodded. "She co-founded it. I think Cave was put out that she was smarter than he was, and he was over twice her age."

_Is someone sitting in Aperture? Could it be Caroline?_

Doug shook his head. "Caroline wasn't well by the time Aperture went into lockdown," he said. "She'd lost all interest in the company aside from..." He bit his lip. "Aside from one of her pet projects. It wouldn't be her, wherever she was."

_Any developments today?_

"You know there's never any developments."

_You don't look too good._

"Got a headache," said Doug, standing up, but Chell continued typing.

_How is Craig doing?_

At that, her father paused, hesitated. Chell frowned. _Is he alright?_

"He's fine," said Doug. "I don't feel well, Chell, I'm going to bed."

But Chell's frown deepened. She looked at the screen. _If our anonymous hacker wasn't Caroline, who could it be? It must be someone you know if they knew my name. And hers. What's the importance of telling me her name?_

"Cave was a bit unbalanced, but even he wouldn't do such a thing," said her father. "Listen, Chell, it's just some hacker playing a trick, someone with a grudge against Montague wanting to scare us."

_Maybe it's someone in Aperture who wants help._

"If someone wanted help we'd be able to get in there." Doug's patience threatened thin.

_Not if someone kept them there._

Why did her father freeze like that?

"That's enough, Chell," said Doug, turning away so he wouldn't have to read another word. "I'm going to bed early. Good night."

Chell continued to frown at the screen long after her father had disappeared. What was going on? Someone in Aperture _must_ need help. And why so evasive about Craig? It wasn't Craig that sent the message, was it?

The camera's red light went on again. Chell lifted her eyes. The foil, still in place, did not betray her.

Someone came and went in and out of their computer as if it were theirs, and could not otherwise be detected.

When Chell finally closed the word processor to shut the computer down, the sound file had disappeared and the recycle bin was empty.

-o-O-o-

It was her fifth birthday party again. Only, it wasn't. But though she didn't recognise her, Chell knew in the omniscient sense that dreams held that it was Caroline that bustled about her kitchen, her voice that drifted out in song. Caroline's voice was beautiful, like honey, singing in Italian.

In the dream, Caroline's face wasn't vague at all, and she didn't look unwell as her father had implied. Healthy chocolate eyes fixed on their task as she bent over a mixing bowl, her tan skin held memories of plenty of sun and her dark, luscious hair spilled down her back, taking on a sheen in the bright light.

Chell had no trouble speaking in dreams. "What are you making?"

Caroline turned to grin at her. "Cake. Cake is scientifically proven to be required for good health, after all."

Caroline stood taller, but didn't loom over her as she had when Chell was a child. "When I was younger, my social worker would make me bake cake if I was too restless. She said it would ground me. I grew somewhat addicted. No wonder I got a bit pudgy, eh?" And with a laugh, she poured the mixture into a tin lined with baking paper.

Then, in the magical way dreams were, the cake appeared ready and baked, covered with delicious icing. Caroline cut her a piece, her gentle smile unwavering as she offered Chell some on a plate. "You should come visit me," said Caroline. "I'll give you plenty of cake."

And when Chell woke that morning, the tune of the song Caroline sang lingered in her head as if it played in front of her. The sun beamed into her room, searing her skin. She sat up, yawning.

The tune continued.

She blinked.

In the middle of her floor sat a giant cube, pink hearts on each side lit up with subtle light. For lack of a better word, the cube appeared to be _singing_. No words came out, only a tune, but it sounded like no instrument Chell had ever heard.

What the _hell_?

The cube, did not answer her silent question. When Chell touched it, it felt warm with the silent whirring of invisible mechanisms.

Was this some odd gift from her father?

She drifted out of the room and found her father in the kitchen, his hair mussed as it was every Sunday morning, and tugged at his arm again. "Morning, Chell," he said, eyes heavy with sleep. He was usually chipper in the mornings. "What is it?"

_What's the box for? _Chell signed.

Rattman rose an eyebrow. "What box?"

_The box in my room. You didn't leave it there?_

"I haven't been in your room, Chell."

_Are you sure? It's singing. I didn't put it there._

To her surprise, her father sprinted past her and up the stairs two at a time. She heard her door open, and then, "Oh, for fuck's sake."

She hesitated at the bottom of the stairs. Her father sighed, an exasperated and resigned sound. She trotted up the stairs and hovered by the doorway.

The cube still sang. It hadn't moved. Her father leaned against the doorframe with his head in his hands.

Had someone broken in and left the cube there? It looked heavy. Chell would have woken up if someone had come in and left it there, she was sure. She touched her father's arm.

He didn't speak for a long moment.

"Yesterday didn't go as planned," he admitted, crossing his arms.

As if on cue, the cube switched its song to a low, mournful tune her father seemed to recognise. He looked up, gazing at it thoughtfully "We got into Aperture."

Chell brightened. This was _great_ news! They'd worked so hard, for so long, and...

And...

If they got in, why didn't he tell her? Why did her father look so upset? Had her mother been found dead?

"Someone got in control of GLaDOS," said Doug. At his daughter's confused look, he said, "That was Montague's project, the one she'd been working on for years by the time Aperture went into lockdown. GLaDOS was the control centre for Aperture, or, she was going to be, she was on the brink of completion by the time Aperture..." he trailed off. "Oh, hell, she probably _is_ sentient."

_What?_ Chell signed.

"Caroline Montague had always dreamed of creating a sentient AI," said Doug. "GLaDOS, the Genetic Lifeform and Disc Operating System, was going to be it. Montague wanted to create life. She was going to be complete days, if not _the_ day, after Aperture went into lockdown... oh, hell, Monty succeeded and a mad robot's been squatting in Aperture, no _wonder_ Craig and I haven't been able to get in for years! How could we compete against a robot?"

_What happened?_ Chell signed.

"Craig and I got in, and... well," said Doug. "GLaDOS got Craig. Kept him there. She let me go, though, but... plainly she..." he sighed. "I think it was GLaDOS that hacked your computer, that somehow put this cube in here — our floors and walls are made of covered portal surfaces, so if GLaDOS found a way to open a portal in your room I wouldn't be surprised."

A _what_?

"She… asked after you," said Doug. "She was fascinated with you. I don't know why. Maybe your mother mentioned you to her, if she's still alive in there."

Chell hadn't known her mother thanks to Aperture. Selissa Rattman had disappeared along with everyone else.

"GLaDOS wanted you," said Doug finally, his voice so quiet Chell barely heard him. "She let me go when I said I'd send you. Of course, I had no intention of sending you at all. I lied because I didn't want to leave you here wondering what had happened and potentially going after me. I know the police won't even look at Aperture sideways anymore."

"Me?" croaked Chell.

Doug scowled in annoyance. "The doctor told you not to speak," he said. "Do you want to ruin your voice further?"

_She wants me?_

Doug shook his head. "I need to get to the bottom of this," he said. "I need to find another way. It could take another fifteen years, but GLaDOS said that your mother was alive in there, that everyone was alive..."

_I'll go._

"... What?"

_She wants me, for some reason. Maybe I can find Mom while I'm in there._

"You don't know what's in there waiting for you," said Doug. "You don't know if any of them are alive, you don't know if the AI won't do some twisted experiment on you."

_But I have to try,_ said Chell. _There are people in there. This could be the breakthrough we need. Maybe I can find Mom, and this Caroline person, and everyone else. The CEO might even still be alive. If we call the police we might put them in danger if the police even listen anymore. We could find out what happened. I could send you a message from there, take my phone..._

"The phone reception doesn't work in there," Doug muttered, but shook his head. "No," he said with a sigh. "I suppose you're right. But I'm not happy about this."

_I'll bring Mom back_, said Chell. She looked to the cube. _I'm not taking that with me though._

The Companion Cube continued to sing its mournful little song.

"Alright, Chell," said Doug. "But be careful, please. I don't know how long you'll be gone, it could be for hours, or… I want to see you again."

_I know_, signed Chell.

He wanted to see her mother again, too. And the friends and near-family he'd known at Aperture. Chell had barely heard about any of them, but she knew they had all been close. Aside from his fortnightly excursions to Aperture, Doug had long ago stopped speaking about it.

Quietly, Chell started to rummage in her wardrobe.


	3. The Sisters' Keeper

**_A/N:_**_ Thank you, as always, for the kind reviews. :D_

_A couple of people have mentioned something - this story is M because of what I warned about in the first chapter. I'm playing it safe. I may bump it down to T, it's hard to tell where things will go this early in the story. This story isn't light and fluffy all the way through, though it does have those moments, but it has a few bits here and there that get a bit nasty. I'm aiming for a bit of fluffiness though!_

_That said, do enjoy!_

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Three<strong>

* * *

><p>It felt like an epic quest, setting out at dawn. But rather than saddling horses, Chell tossed a small bag into a car, and instead of the scent of hay she was greeted by fumes and the stink of the garage after she bid her father goodbye.<p>

It was a long drive to Aperture. Chell had taken the trip many times before, but never alone. Growing up she'd gone with her father and Craig almost every weekend. It was a long day away, often filled with boredom, but this time her insides churned with fear and apprehension.

What _did_ GLaDOS want with her? What could an artificial intelligence possibly want with her? Was her mother truly alive, or had GLaDOS lied? And what about the others, about Caroline? What about Craig?

She hoped the albino man was alright. He was a kind, studious man who'd even cut her hair only an hour before he and Doug had left, later than usual that morning because Doug had to finish up something. Craig was as good as an uncle to her, with his pink eyes and the yellow-white hair that he kept short. Chell remembered, with embarrassment, being very fascinated with his appearance as a young child, but thankfully Craig had never been upset by it.

She brought her phone with her, for all the good it would do.

_Here goes nothing_, she texted her father after she parked the car.

Overgrown weeds dominated the dilapidated parking lot, with their deformed buds and ugly leaves. But in a gentle, warm breeze she smelled roses. A bush hulked by the glass doors as if to hide them with its massive form. She hissed in pain as thin, thorny branches laying across the path snared her ankles, their blooms the colour of blood.

The doors opened with a gentle whisper as she stepped into the lobby. It smelled fresh, she realised as she dabbed her ankles with a tissue. If the employees had died, the lobby would surely hide under a mountain of dust, Chell detected not a speck. But then, hadn't her father said that they were alive somewhere, kept in captivity by this monster robot? Perhaps they were here, waiting for her. In an hour from now she could easily meet her mother again…

She would have called out if she could, but the doctors had said if she spoke too much she could ruin her voice more than the illness that ravaged her vocal chords already had.

As it turned out, she didn't need to.

"Hello and welcome to the enrichment center," said a robotic voice over a loudspeaker. "Please proceed into the elevator and have a nice day. Further instruction awaits you once you are settled in."

She looked up and met the single eye of a camera, its red light blinking. It lurked behind the front desk, following her as she walked.

Chell stepped into a tight, cool lift, fiddling with the strap of her small backpack. The glass doors whooshed softly as they closed. A small vent in the ceiling provided warm air as the lift descended beneath the earth, wearing the same, anti-bacterial scent as the lobby. Another camera watched her with silent judgement. The vivid light hurt her eyes.

The ride lasted forever. How deep did this shaft go? She pictured rock pressing in on them, a lonely lift shaft sinking deep into the core of the earth.

At last the doors opened. She saw a few expensive desks, with abandoned wheeled chairs and computer monitors long dead. A projector screen swung in the breeze blown in by a vent. A grey grid ran above her on the off-white ceiling, the same colour as the walls. The floor smelled of citrus. A few possessions sat on the desk.

It was as if whoever lived here had gone only the day before, but a travel magazine on someone's desk underneath a carved wooden object was dated over thirteen and a half years ago, its pages brittle, the colours fading. The computer didn't respond when Chell nudged it, ignoring the camera in the corner of the room. Pinned to a cork board were several glossy photos of rope bridges across green gorges, enormous cliff faces bearing a few clinging climbers and a few sheets of curling yellow paper bearing finger paintings. The name on the desk read, in peeling letters, _GODRIC JONES_.

There were six desks in total. Chell spotted her father's without any effort. Pencils, markers and scrawled papers were scattered across with designs. He'd been the artist of the facility, the designer. She picked one up. It was a drawing of a bound woman hanging from a ceiling, beside some robotic design. Underneath someone had scrawled a barely decipherable message. _You've made your opinion clear enough already, but the design is clever and unconventional. I like it. But don't show Rick that other picture, he'll just make BDSM jokes. Again. - CM_

So this had been the main workroom of the few employees of Aperture. Chell hunted around for her mother's desk.

She found it soon enough. It was a simple little desk. Selissa Rattman had pinned a few pictures of baby Chell above — Chell as a toddler splashing about in a tiny rubber ring, Chell as a four-year-old clinging to a long forgotten kitten, Chell at her fifth birthday blowing out the candles on a massive pink cake.

It was the last picture that made her pause. Her mother was in that picture, an arm curled around Chell's waist, grinning. Her face was round and young, her eyes bright. Behind her stood a man in his early forties, his skin unnaturally pale and sallow on bony arms. In spite of that, he grinned. Chell didn't recognise him, or the woman beside him whose face was obscured by long dark hair as she looked at something off-camera. The three adults stood out in a sea of children.

Judging by the long sleeves, that must be Caroline. Out of curiosity, remembering how her imagination had conjured Caroline in her dream, Chell wandered over to another desk littered with tiny mechanical creatures. Her walls were bare of photos, showing only designs and instructions for the building of various robots. She found a working model of her father's design, with a yellow eye that lit up.

But Chell barely noticed it. All she saw was the gun.

At least, it _looked_ like a gun, but it was the oddest gun Chell had ever seen. Rather than a sharp, sleek grey design, soft rounded shapes decorated the barrel. It was friendlier than most guns. Chell picked it up. For its size it was surprisingly light. Feeling around inside spoke to her of three triggers, each marked with a different colour when she turned it upside down. Blue, orange and white. That was odd. But she wasn't about to test what each one did. The opening of the wide barrel looked like a mouth. Did this thing shoot mini canon balls or something?

"Aperture Science strongly recommends you hold onto the dual portal device," said the robotic voice suddenly. "Not that you weren't going to steal it anyway, I'm sure."

Chell whirled around. The office remained deserted except for the camera mounted on the wall that stared at her, and the loudspeaker behind it.

She put the gun back.

"I _meant_ the gun, you moron," said the voice. "And since you are plainly dim witted, I advise _against_ aiming it at your face. And do get a move on, I don't have all day."

Chell blinked at the camera, and picked up the gun again. It sat nicely on her arm. Why did people keep mentioning portals? It had to be technospeak, or _something_, some phrase she wasn't familiar with.

She followed a hallway out of the office. The same off-white panels lined the silent walls, and the tracking grids followed the ceiling. She walked past a few grates set into the walls, beyond which she glimpsed the bowels of the facility. Still painfully aware of the cameras that watched her every step, Chell kept going. After a while she began to hear water, as if there was a pool nearby.

Then she heard the yelling.

She stopped. Fear froze every cell in her body as she listened. Was someone in trouble? But no, those screams were in _anger_. The corridors distorted the voice, losing its rag at something else, and somehow it made it even more forboding. Was it this GLaDOS? Was it one of the prisoners? Where did it come from? As it grew in volume it rebounded off the panelled walls and cold ceilings. Every muscle in Chell's body tensed for confrontation.

"Her name is Caroline," said a tiny voice.

Chell whirled around and pulled a trigger.

To her surprise, instead of shooting bullets, a blue oval appeared on the wall behind the speaker — who wasn't human. A single red eye peered at her from within a slim white oval, all standing on three crablike legs.

"Get mad," it said out of invisible speakers.

Chell lowered the gun, stepping closer. She ran her hand over smooth white casing. The red light stared at her unblinkingly. She peered at the blue oval behind it.

The robot demanded attention. "I'm different."

She crouched and tapped the casing. The voice had to be prerecorded. Unless it was sentient? Her father had alluded to GLaDOS being sentient…

Was this GLaDOS?

Something crashed nearby. The yelling grew louder. "Oh, it's about _time_ she showed up!" Chell heard. "She just saunters in here like she owns the place and takes her damn time as she does so, as if we have nothing better to do than sit around and wait! It's not as if we haven't sat around and waited for thirteen years, seven months and two days already! If I have to listen to Adventure hit on me _one more time_ I will rip him off his rail and throw him at someone!"

Chell stepped behind the odd little robot. The yelling stopped, just as the offender came around the corner.

A little girl glared at Chell.

At least, on first sight, it was a girl. She was four and a half feet tall, but it quickly became apparent she had the proportions and body of an adult female with a narrow waist and small breasts. She had to be an android, made of the same shiny, plastic metal the little robot Chell stood behind. She wore her hair in a short, white bob which emphasised her angular features, all drawn to her eyes in a slanted scowl.

Two red lines joined on her white chest, reminiscent of the neckline of a shirt. On her collar was a scarlet Aperture logo. The irises stood stark against black like red orbs in a skull, two narrowed lights that glared at her.

"This is it?" said the android. "Really? You take your time getting here and then _this is it?_ She made you sound better than you are, and She had not a single good word to say, trust me, She doesn't like _anyone_, least of all _you_. You look pathetic. Truly and utterly pathetic." She paused, scrutinised Chell, and added, "And fat, too. Wonderful. Another cake guzzler, are you? As if we don't have enough of those around here."

At a loss for words, Chell stared.

"And stupid to boot," said the android. "Or deaf. But you can't be deaf because She saw you move when the turret talked, so I bet you think it's funny to act like a moron just for me, eh? Wonderful. I'm _so_ privileged." Her red eyes only seemed to grow brighter as she trembled with rage. Fear constricted Chell's chest.

Something clicked within Chell.

On a impulse, she aimed at the ceiling above the android and pulled the orange trigger. A disc of the same colour appeared, and Chell glimpsed the back of her own shirt through it.

She looked behind her. Vertigo swam around her head as she saw the android beneath her.

Aha, so _this_ was what her father meant by portals!

The android had begun to rant again, but Chell didn't give it a second thought. She aimed a blue portal at the android's feet.

The android began to fall. And fall. And fall. She fell in a never ending loop, a blur of red and white. "What the — ?" Her voice sounded distorted. "I am going to _murder you_! I hope Her test tracks kill you!"

And then the android clipped the side of the blue portal and spun, before she fell in a heap on the floor. She growled and snarled, climbing to her feet. How had she not fallen apart?

"And you have utterly _no_ regard for other people's property," the android hissed. "Oh, She will _loathe_ you. I don't see what good _you_ will be, you disgusting blimp. You're only likelier to blow the whole place up, _I hope She kills you, it's more than you deserve!_"

Chell ran.

She had no idea where she was going. She followed the corridors as the sound of water faded away, clutching the portal gun like a lifeline, through automatic doors and underneath the tracks that ran above her, through odd rooms full of cubes and strange devices she barely glanced twice yet. What she wouldn't give for an ordinary _door_ to shut out the beast that followed her! She ran after Chell, screaming at the top of digital lungs, yelling obscenities and curses and death wishes.

And Chell rounded a corner and collided with her. She stopped in fright as the android fell backwards, and —

— Heard yelling behind her.

_Two of them?_ Just what she needed!

But the one that stood up in front of her and casually dusted herself off was different. Her markings were a different colour, it was purple eyes that focused on her instead of red.

"_I hope She kills you, I hope you all die!_"

The purple android merely sighed, and stepped past Chell. Chell ran past, only to trip over the Companion Cube, which had appeared out of nowhere. How the _hell_ did it — ?

This place was _insane_.

The purple android stood in the centre of the corridor as the red robot stormed towards them. The Companion Cube began to sing.

"Oh, wonderful," the red android snarled. "You're both ganging up on me. You must be terribly proud of yourselves, you cowards."

Chell waited for the purple android to speak, but she only crossed her arms and stood with legs apart without saying a word. Chell approached tentatively and stood beside her. All the purple android did was frown disapprovingly, and it stopped the red one in her tracks.

"She'll tear this place apart," said the red one. "She looks stupid. Unbelievably stupid. She won't get it. We need a genius in here, someone with _brains_, not some idiot who could be the ID Core's long lost twin."

The Companion Cube continued to sing, a soft, comforting tune. The purple android didn't move, nor did she stop frowning at her twin like an adult mildly put out by a child's behaviour.

"Fine!" the red android spat. "Have it your way, Morality! I won't do anything to her while you're around. But don't expect Her to listen to you as much as the rest of us do. You know what She's like. She's just as stupid as the rest of you are, and completely socially incompetent. I bet Chell will die of old age before anything is likely to happen!"

And with that, the red android turned and stormed away, still ranting and raving.

Chell stared. Had the purple android really had so much power over her red twin?

She wanted to ask what was going on as the Companion Cube's song ended and the purple-marked android named Morality turned to regard her with a faint frown. Again, Chell had the impression of being scrutinised, but unlike the overdramatic violence of the red android this one seemed softer in her disapproval.

But then Morality offered her a hesitant smile, and took Chell's hand.


	4. Meeting the Beast

_**A/N:** Really not happy with this chapter, but after a month of waiting I thought you guys might want to know I haven't fallen off the face of the earth._

Sub Rosa_ is a side project, so updates won't be regular. I might go on an uploading spree for a week then you won't hear from me for a few more. Right now I'm more focused on my main project. Unless something comes up, the gap won't get so big again though._

_Thanks to everyone who reviewed!_

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><p><strong>Chapter Four<strong>

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><p>Morality frowned at the writing on the wall.<p>

The little purple-marked android led Chell by the hand through identical corridors and passages lined with the same white panels. Were these the portal surfaces her father had referred to?

But after a while the clean panels were overtaken by childish scrawlings crammed into every square inch of white on the wall. It wasn't all writing; some pictures decorated the surfaces, kindergarten-like designs of machines half-done and abandoned before the lines transformed back into writing. _Can't sleep, can't sleep, can't sleep, sleep mode won't stay on._ Chell spied some mathematical equations, cake ingredients, and more insane rambling. _I told Her She could stuff it and She got angry and said She'd shut me down but She didn't because I ran away and I don't have time to be shut down and then the new arrival came and she's very pretty but Anger got to her first and I couldn't warn anyone and I wonder if guinea pigs are gay or if penguins don't like —_

At least _some_ of it made sense. She gestured at the writing and looked at Morality.

Morality shook her head with a frown.

So, if Morality wasn't the one who'd written on the walls, who could it have been? She'd only _met_ Morality and Anger so far. Morality frowned disapprovingly where the writing trailed off into another corridor and took another passage at the fork clean of scribblings. Chell almost trod on an abandoned sharpie. Morality stooped to pick it up with her free hand, and continued walking, a dark scowl now on her face. She clutched the sharpie like a child would a teddy bear.

They walked through another office — really? Why did Aperture need so many offices with so few employees? — and across an enclosed bridge lined with large windows. Chell glimpsed a rusted metal floor far below.

A mechanical door opened. Morality pushed the small of Chell's back.

Within the huge chamber ahead, something moved. Something spoke. "Please remain in your current position and allow the biological organism you have escorted to proceed. _Alone_. Aperture Science assures you nobody will murdered, and there will be cake."

Morality hesitated, and then led the way in. Chell followed the tiny robot.

"In laymen's terms," said the mechanical voice. Chell recognised it as the one she had heard in the lobby. "_Stay out_, Morality."

She heard the creak of metal joints, the whirring and buzzing of invisible mechanisms. She stepped closer.

Her jaw dropped.

She'd seen the creature in front of her before; a tiny model from the little office she'd passed through with the yellow eye that lit up. But the robot that swung from a pillar to face her was _enormous_. The chassis bearing a single yellow optic stretched almost as tall as Chell herself. Two black plastic pieces closed over the golden light to give the robot a narrow-eyed look as it scrutinised Chell.

_This_ was GLaDOS.

"What do you want with me?" Chell croaked. Her throat burned.

"Your specimen has been processed," said GLaDOS. "One diagnosis of an unknown vocal chord disease. Symptoms: pain upon exercise, deterioration. Prognosis: irreversible damage and disability, followed by vocal failure, and failure at life _forever_ for being an idiot and speaking when you aren't supposed to. Advice recommended by the Genetic Lifeform and Disc Operating System's medical encyclopedia: shut up."

Chell narrowed her own eyes, gripping the portal gun tightly and lifting her chin.

"One diagnosis of unfortunate parentage," said GLaDOS. "[Subject Name Here] may contain DNA of _orcinus orca_."

_Eh?_

If it were possible, the Genetic Lifeform and Disc Operating System seemed put out that Chell hadn't reacted appropriately. "You resemble a whale," she translated. "A killer whale."

Chell looked down on herself.

She looked up and shrugged.

GLaDOS's eye narrowed to a slit. Chell almost stumbled back as the massive head came close to her as if to inspect every line on her face. "You were stupid to come here," said GLaDOS. "But don't worry. You're here for the science. Just like me."

What about her _mother_? And where was Craig? And everyone else?

"Hmph," Finally, GLaDOS drew away. Chell released the breath she hadn't realised she'd been holding. "You're not much. You're fat. You don't even look interesting. Really now, I expected far more personality, but then, personality belongs to people with brains. I doubt you have _that_. You're even a coward. The Anger core isn't even supposed to hurt you. It's all show, you know. Oh, wait, you didn't, because you didn't use your head and investigate."

Chell glared.

"You're probably good for nothing but the test tracks."

Chell heard a small gasp from behind her. Glancing around she saw Morality's eyes widen in shock, before fixing on GLaDOS in an angry glare. The bigger robot ignored her. "Fit her out with a pair of long-fall boots." The robot's tone appeared to cheer up. "We can run some tests. For the rest of your life."

Chell blinked, turning back to GLaDOS, but already the robot rotated away from her.

That was _it_?

What about her mother? What about everyone else trapped in Aperture!

And what were these tests? Oh, hell…

She dashed past them and up the metal walkway to the door that awaited. There had to be something in there that could help. Morality trailed after her, but GLaDOS didn't seem to care.

"Aperture Science recommends you wear your long fall boots at all times in case of rogue portals that appear beneath your feet and try to kill you," droned GLaDOS. "Disclaimer: Aperture Science does not condone homicide in any form, and we are exempt from lawsuits that may occur as a result of… _accidents_."

But the door Chell opened went nowhere except into a small office. There was another door in there, but it led to a tiny room that didn't even seem to have any purpose, devoid of furniture and windows. Perhaps it had been a storage room once. The little office Chell had found held a handful of long-abandoned monitors, a red phone, and a couple of dusty chairs. A miniature cube sat and blinked on one of the desks. The monitors didn't respond to any input.

The phone didn't work. Chell wasn't surprised.

Morality frowned at her from the door frame. She held out her hand silently.

Chell sighed, and took it.

"Aperture Science wishes to inform you that such blatant public displays of affection _make me sick_," said GLaDOS as they left. "Warning: holding hands with androids may hint at larger problems, such as androidsexuality, allergy to cats and being unloved and abandoned by one's birth mother."

-o-O-o-

Whatever these tests were, Chell didn't find out yet.

According to Chell's watch it had grown dark by the time Morality led her to a bedroom. It held little furniture; a desk, an odd panel on the wall, drawers and a wardrobe, a bed. Knowing she had a space of her own to retreat her gave her some comfort, and yet its appearance troubled her. Just how long was she going to be here? She hadn't even eaten all day.

Morality fussed over her belongings, raiding Chell's bag and putting things away. The drawers seemed large and empty with only a few clothes inside. Chell watched, dumbfounded as the little android put her toiletries in the nearby bathroom and then patted Chell's bed and looked at her.

Chell blinked at her. The little android reminded her of a mother hen. She frowned deeply and glanced at her watch. It was still early. Morality removed it from her wrist and put it inside the drawer in Chell's new bedside table.

Which Chell hoped wouldn't be hers for long.

Morality continued to stand there and frown at her until Chell sighed and slipped into bed. Almost tenderly, the little android tucked her in.

"Where are they?" Chell rasped. Her throat burned in pain.

Morality frowned at her and patted Chell's neck.

"I have to find them," said Chell, her voice threatening to break.

But the little android radiated silent disapproval.

"Can't you speak either?" Chell's voice wavered.

The android quietly shook her head. And with that as her last silent words, the little creature departed the room and switched off the light behind her, leaving Chell in complete darkness to the sound of a closing door.

Tomorrow, then. She'd look for them tomorrow, try to shake off Morality and Anger. Craig had to be in here somewhere.

She waited.

When she thought enough time had passed that Morality would be long gone and there was no danger of the android returning to watch her like a hawk, she got out of bed and felt her way to where the door had been. She found the light switch easily enough, bathing the room in a bright white luminescence. The place reminded her of the hospital, but at least there were no cameras. She looked around.

There. The device on the wall. What _was_ that?

She approached it. It _looked_ like a flat dead screen set into the wall. The panel underneath didn't look quite right. Chell pressed on it, and the panel slid out, carrying a comfortable-looking chair set into it that reminded her of the booths in a restaurant. She pulled the panel back and sat down, tapping the screen.

It flared to life. The Aperture logo glowed at her.

A computer?

Perfect.

The interface wasn't one she had ever seen before, with a slick, clean design better than any other operating system Chell had used before. It was surprisingly simple and intuitive, and to Chell's delight it even had internet!

Or... not. She should have guessed.

Attempts to access her email server went nowhere, along with all the other sites she tried to get to. Instead she gave up on that and found her way to Aperture's intranet. An entire encyclopaedia of knowledge greeted her. She found articles on animals, many eBooks on the server, and two dozen cake recipes. Out of curiosity she looked up her father, using the on-screen keyboard to type his name into the search bar. As she expected, it listed his credentials as resident artist and architect. He'd designed Aperture's buildings from the inside out.

Craig's article was there as well. She was not surprised to discover he had been the one to put the intranet together. Craig's specialty had always been obscure knowledge and information, and while he had no specialty he often knew things that experts didn't. But why keep an encyclopaedia within Aperture's database? Plainly it had working internet once upon a time. She frowned and kept going.

Out of curiosity, she found herself reading the other articles on the employees of Aperture.

For a massive facility, there had been very few. Junior Jones had not been an employee, but the young nephew of Godric "Rick" Jones. Junior had been a child genius that apparently someone unknown within the facility had found a certain kindred spirit in and allowed him to be brought in every day to tend to his homeschooling. Then there was Selissa Rattman, who'd once been a social worker and psychologist and found ways to apply other knowledge in her work every day.

There was Godric Jones, the public rep. Someone named Wheatley. A spiteful, tacked-on comment noted he was a genius completely lacking in common sense and social skills. Lastly, Chell came across the articles of the CEO and his main assistant.

Caroline Montague's article stated her date of birth, like everyone else's, as well as a university degree that she must have earned at the age of... _twelve_? That couldn't be right. The place appeared to be just as reliable as Wikipedia.

Like everyone else's articles hers was devoid of pictures.

But it was Cave Johnson's that crept Chell out the most.

The article was completely empty. The usual interface of the encyclopaedia surrounded a blank white space. Chell refreshed a few times. It didn't let up. The words _Cave Johnson, CEO_ stared at her, lonely in a sea of white pixels.

How _weird_.

Suddenly the computer shut off. The lights dimmed. GLaDOS's voice came over the loudspeaker. "Once you have finished nosing around Aperture Science Innovations' intranet, it would be in your best interests to put yourself into sleep mode for the rest of the night." Then, she tacked on thoughtfully, "You ugly monster."

Frowning, Chell slid off the chair and tucked it back into the wall. The lights turned out before she could reach her bed. Sighing, she felt her way over and slipped underneath the cool covers.

A loud BANG jerked her wide awake. Her heart thundered against her chest. What — ? It sounded as if something had landed in her room in the darkness beside her.

She didn't dare move. She didn't breathe. She remained still in the darkness, listening for something to move.

A gentle, soothing tune filled the air.

The Companion Cube!

She relaxed to see the faint hearts dimly bathe the room in pink light as the Companion Cube sang. She wondered if the intranet had an article on the creature. Hell, she should have looked up GLaDOS while she was there.

Had it been GLaDOS who erased Cave Johnson's article? Or had it simply never been started?

Chell reached out and patted the warm surface of the Companion Cube. It paused, mid-song, to trill in delight before it continued. The soft melody bathed her in warmth like a lullaby.

With the music as her comfort, so far away from home, Chell fell into an easy sleep.


	5. Dreaming of Beginnings

_**A/N:** Thanks so much to all who reviewed!_

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><p><strong>Chapter Five<strong>

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><p>The song of the Companion Cube permeated Chell's sleep, echoing off wooden walls until it lowered into a soft hum. Chell found herself trotting through a corridor after a young woman. Chell smelled hairspray. The woman wore stockings and high heels, and a black bun perched on the back of her head. She hummed the low tune the Companion Cube had sang.<p>

"Where am I?" said Chell.

The woman continued to hum, then said, "Sophia!"

A middle-aged blonde stepped out of an open door. Her scowl faded when she caught sight of them. "Oh, thank _god_ you're here," she said.

"I'm sorry," said the woman Chell had followed. "I let myself in, I hope that was alright."

"Oh, not a problem, I left the door unlocked for you," said the blonde Sophia. She glanced down the hallway to a closed door. "I'm at the end of my damn rope. I'm glad you could come."

Chell heard the smile in the dark-haired woman's voice. "Many other foster parents who have taken Carol in have found it difficult to… interact with her, due to her differences."

Sophia's scowl darkened. "The problem is that Caroline's intelligent," she said. "It's the fact she _knows_ she's intelligent. She's already going on about her PHD and she only graduated college last week, for crying out loud!"

"It's important to speak to Caroline as if she is an adult — "

"But she's not!" said Sophia. "She's twelve years old! She's still inexperienced — "

"Then treat her like a sheltered adult," came the dark-haired woman's calm, soothing tone. Sophia relaxed as she spoke. "She has double our combined IQ and can win a debate against the most intelligent of adults. If I may say so, Sophia, she will feel patronised if she is treated the way other children her age are treated, and that only angers her more."

"And you know what she's like when she's angry," Sophia muttered.

"She will need boundaries," said the woman. "Continue establishing and reinforcing those."

"'Treat her like an adult, but establish boundaries'?" Sophia rose an eyebrow. "I'm sorry, Selissa, but I don't get your logic."

_Selissa_! Chell's mother! What a weird dream. Fancy Selissa being Caroline's social worker. Chell chuckled to herself.

"Address her like an adult," said Selissa, "but keep boundaries like a child. She still needs security and giving her absolute power like the adult she can act like will scare any child her age, no matter how much they say otherwise. She needs to grow into her power first. If she's still up at three in the morning tell her to go to bed — "

"But she can't sleep!" Sophia returned to her anxious frenzy. "She complains she can't stop thinking, and she barely sleeps two or three hours a night sometimes! I thought it would get better after she finished college, but it only got worse because now she's _bored_." Sophia pinched the bridge of her nose. "The doctors only throw more sleeping tablets at her, and she gets immune to those in only a few nights."

Selissa sighed. "It looks as if she's been forgetting to meditate again, I'll remind her."

"And I'm worried," said Sophia. "Some man's been getting interested in her in the university."

"Everyone's interested in Caroline," said Selissa, but Chell stepped around her to see a wary frown on her young mother's features. "What kind of interest?"

"Professional, he claims," Sophia snorted. "He's twenty years older than her and looking for people to help him with his vision. Some idiot billionaire. But why a _twelve_-year-old?"

"What does Caroline think of it?"

"She's all over it like a rash," Sophia sighed. "She's only twelve, she can't handle this no matter how much she insists she can. She's been writing to him and all she's gone on about the last few weeks is him."

"What's his name?"

"Cave Johnson," said Sophia. She gestured to the closed door down the hallway. "Maybe you can talk more sense into her. I've had no luck. Take as long as you want. Do you want some tea when you're done?"

"I'd be grateful," said Selissa. "I'll talk to her. I can't promise anything — "

"I know," said Sophia. "It's impossible to get through to her. She's too damn stubborn."

"And how many times have I heard someone say that about _me_?" said Chell.

Neither of the adults responded. Chell trotted after her mother, who stopped at a closed door at the end of the hallway and knocked. "Caroline?" Selissa said.

"Come in," said a voice from behind the door.

Selissa stumbled over something on the floor. Chell repeated her mother's mistake an instant later, then blinked down at the floor. Electronics of all kinds littered the carpet, along with books, folders and clothes. Papers lay strewn across a desk crammed with clutter. Chell stepped over a tangle of wires.

On a bed covered with paper and books sat a cross-legged girl.

Back at Chell's fifth birthday, Caroline had drowned in long sleeves like a stick insect, with a sad expression on a face made vague by the blurring passage of time. But here, angular features etched a frown into the young girl's face. Her clothes looked too short on her plump form. She pored over a small mechanical device in her hands, nail-bitten fingers probing over a metal surface.

"Sophia told me you just graduated," said Selissa. "Congratulations."

"Mmm," said little Caroline. She twisted something octagonal into place on the round, UFO-like device. "She won't let me apply to get my PHD."

Selissa's chuckle sounded only half amused. "Don't you want to take your time with these things?"

Caroline offered the device to Selissa in answer. "What do you think of this?"

Selissa took it with the patience reminiscent of any school counsellor dealing with a young child. She turned the device over. Tiny lights came to life at her touch. "What is it?"

"It's an idea someone I know had," said Caroline. "He said, if you can upload music to a CD, why can't you upload someone to a computer?"

"And this is some prototype?"

Caroline snorted. "Of course not," she said. "But we've been playing with designs. I think it's a waste if you ask me. I think it would be better to focus on _creating_ artificial intelligence, skip the middle step, not just transferring consciousness from a person into a robot, though I can see the function in it. He doesn't have much ambition."

Chell cracked up.

Even Selissa's mouth curled in amusement as she handed the device back. "Not much ambition, I _see_," she said with a smirk. Caroline took it back and gazed down at it with a smile. "This wouldn't be Cave Johnson, would it?"

Caroline's smile faded into a suspicious frown. "And if it was?"

"Caroline," said Selissa in a soothing tone. "I have spoken to you about defensiveness."

Caroline snorted. "Why shouldn't I be defensive? Nobody approves of a damn thing I do. They're always intent on cramming me into a box because of their own narrow-minded views on the world. 'You're twelve years old! You act contrary to my prejudices and preconceptions of how a twelve-year-old should act! Therefore _there is something wrong with you!_'" Caroline narrowed her eyes. "Sophia's worse. I liked Margaret."

"You're lucky you got away from that without getting into serious trouble," said Selissa. "Roy could have been seriously hurt."

"It was for _science_ — "

"And your inability to grasp basic empathy is the reason why Margaret requested for you to be transferred," said Selissa. "I'm here to help you cope, to teach you about these things. I'm not your enemy."

Caroline looked back down at the device in her hands. "I know," she murmured, her eyes turning dull. A flash of the older, sickly Caroline from Chell's birthday so long ago flashed into her head. "But sometimes I think you forget that. I'm not like other people my age. I'm not like any _adults_. Remember that before you tell me how to act and — "

"But I don't," said Selissa.

"You do all the time! You tell me I should do this, I should do that — "

"Only because your current actions are damaging you or the people around you," said Selissa. "Sophia told me you're not sleeping again."

The child had the grace to look guilty. "They just — "

" — give you more sleeping pills, I know," said Selissa. "You have to meditate."

"But there's too much to _think_ about!" said Caroline. "Sometimes I think I'm about to fall asleep and then suddenly I'll get an idea..."

"That's because of your intelligence," said Selissa. "You think —"

"I think too fast to sleep, I know," said Caroline. "Been there, done that, haven't we talked about this a million times by now? Anyway, if you've got a problem with Cave you may as well tell me now."

"You're not…" Selissa pressed her lips into a long, thin line. "You're not worried about the… _intentions_ of a man twenty years older than you?"

"I'm not stupid," said Caroline. "The whole reason I'm _here_ is because I'm not stupid, for hell's sake, it's not like my parents enjoyed having a psychopathic kid who could do long division in her head at four years old! He's not a creep. He's a damn genius and he's looking for somewhere to apply that genius, and I see a kindred spirit in him. We've been writing to each other." She held up the device. "This was his idea. An operating system that can store a brain on it. _I_ want to create life, but he still has a lot of intelligence. Being able to upload someone's brain onto a computer would change science forever." Caroline's eyes lit up. "Just imagine if we could do that! He said I'm more than capable of it, I know a fellow genius when I see one. I mean, I'm more intelligent, but that's exactly why he wants me to work for him when I'm older. He can fund my patents and innovations and I can just _create_. All day, every day. Imagine what I could do with him to support me!"

Then she scowled. "But unfortunately because the law is short sighted I will not be able to do that for five and a half more years because all children are dumb little shits that wouldn't know their left hand from their right one without an adult to tell them, and _we are obviously all the same, no exceptions ever_." She sneered.

"Caroline," said Selissa. "I know. You're intelligent, there's not a single person who has met you who can dispute that, but you still lack the experience of an adult — "

"So why the hell am I smarter than most of them?" Caroline snorted. "A technician was having trouble at the university two weeks ago because hackers got into the software. I told him how to modify the program, reboot the trace and piggyback the virus through a back door in the system — "

"Caroline," said Selissa softly. "Experience and intelligence aren't the same thing."

"I still don't see a difference."

"Didn't anyone tell you not to touch a stove when you were a kid?"

"Well, yes, but —"

"And let me guess, you didn't listen to them and touched it?"

"I did listen, actually."

"Well, that metaphor falls flat," Selissa cracked a smile. "But most people don't — they know the stove will hurt them, but don't _learn_ until they touch it. It's through the _experience_ of touching a hot stove that they truly understand — "

"Yeah, what's with Sophia?" said Caroline, ignoring Selissa's frustrated frown as she ploughed on. "Last night she was like, 'don't touch the stove, it's still cooling down' and I was like, 'I just graduated college, damn it, do you think I'm a total fucking moron?'"

"Caroline." Selissa scowled.

"Sorry," said Caroline. "Language."

"I was more referring to how you interrupted — "

"Sorry."

Chell bit back a snicker. Selissa tilted her head. "What am I going to do with you?" she said.

"Leave me to my own business?" said Caroline with a sweet smile.

Selissa held out her hand. "Can I see those letters?"

Caroline froze. "Why?"

"I don't want someone to take advantage of you and steal your ideas."

"You'll make me stop writing to him," said Caroline. Her expression grew pleading. "I can't — he's the first person to _get_ me, he's the first person who —"

"I know," said Selissa. Her genuine tone allowed Caroline to calm down, but only slightly. "That's why I have to read the letters. If Cave Johnson truly has good intentions, then I want the adults around you to feel safe allowing you to keep writing to him, and they will trust my word if not his. But in order for me to do that I'll have to invade your privacy to make a judgement for myself. Is that an acceptable price? Because I hate to hold your friendship hostage like this, but there are many men out there who would take advantage of you, and without judging for myself I will have to tell you to stop writing to him."

Caroline sighed. "Alright," she said. "Fine." She reached over to her bedside table and pulled out a drawer, rummaging around for a few sheets of paper.

"And don't think of hiding a few," said Selissa. "In fact, if you wanted to hide any of them I'd get even more worried."

Grumbling, Caroline held out the sheaf of papers. "You're the only person I'd trust not to freak out about this," she sighed. "Cave won't like me sharing these. He's paranoid."

"He doesn't have to know."

"I want to be trustworthy," said Caroline.

"_I_ am trustworthy," said Selissa. "I won't let anyone else see these unless there is something within them that makes me seriously concerned for your safety."

"I know," said Caroline.

Selissa folded the papers on her lap. "Thank you." She looked around at the papers scattered on the floor. Chell made out a few blueprints, her eyes widening.

"I'll clean it up!" said Caroline.

Selissa laughed. "I wasn't going to say that," she said. "I was going to suggest something else, actually."

"What's that?"

"Baking cake."

Caroline stared at her. "_What_?"

"It'll give you an opportunity to clear your mind," said Selissa. "You need to meditate again, and you don't have to sit still to meditate. You can bake cake as meditation. Singing, walking, dancing, baking... something that keeps you active and busy but lets you clear your mind or keep it focused on something relatively quiet will help you. Maybe baking can be your meditation. I'm sure Sophia would allow you to use her kitchen."

"I like singing," said Caroline.

"Then sing as well!"

"… Do you think Sophia would let me have lessons?"

Somehow, Chell had the impression Sophia would _love_ anything that kept Caroline busy. Selissa seemed to share this sentiment. "I think so," she said. "Some hobbies will keep you preoccupied over the next few years, until you're old enough to work. You have a lot of things you've missed out on because you've been so busy. Let yourself live a little, and if you still want to pursue this PHD... well, we'll talk about it, okay? But I want you to have at least a year to think about it."

Caroline sighed. "I'm going to go _crazy_."

"Not if you keep yourself busy enough," said Selissa. "Try a few new things. It'll do you good."

"Like baking cake," Caroline mumbled.

"You baked me a cake for my birthday once," said Chell. "I remember it was pretty popular."

To her surprise, Caroline heard her. "I did, did I?" she said, turning the device over in her hands idly. "Perhaps it's something worth looking into. Though I don't see a problem that cake-baking will solve." She flicked one of the panels. Selissa didn't to react to their conversation, sitting frozen with a smile. "Necessity is the mother of invention, after all, and I'm an inventor. If a young one." She scowled.

"It solves the problem of hungry five-year-olds," said Chell sagely.

Caroline smirked. "Okay," she said. "Maybe you are correct. It's not nuclear physics, but it's something, isn't it?"

After Selissa said her goodbyes and picked her way out of the room, Caroline continued to tinker with the tiny model on the other side of the room.

"You want to create life," said Chell. "Is that GLaDOS or something?"

"Yes," said Caroline, holding it up. "This is my... third design? It still doesn't seem right, somehow. But I'm no artist." She smiled. "Artificial life. Imagine, I'd change the world forever that way..."

"You did create life," said Chell. "It didn't end well."

"If I succeeded at all, then it did," said Caroline.

"Where is my mother?" said Chell. "Where's Rick? Junior? Cave Johnson? Everyone else?"

Caroline opened up the underbelly of the device. Chell witnessed a cunning glimpse on her face, a smirk that was far from innocent, and shivers went down her spine. In an instant, it disappeared. "Are you familiar with the phrase _sub rosa_?"

"I haven't heard it."

"It's an old one," said Caroline. "It's Latin for 'under the rose.' There's an old legend about people denoting secret meetings by hanging a rose over it, or meeting under a design of one... it's connected with Egyptian gods somehow, a god of silence who was associated with roses." She pulled out a wire. The lights on the device died. "Or something. But their location right now... it's sub rosa. You'll find out when the time is right, but not before then. Not a moment before then."

Chell sank into the chair Selissa sat in only moments before. "When will the time be right?"

"I don't know," said Caroline.

"I should've expected as much," Chell muttered. "You're only a dream."

Caroline stared at her with an intense gaze. "Cave Johnson told me something once," she said. "He said that sufficiently advanced science is indistinguishable from magic. I think you will find in your days in Aperture..." she fished a few more wires out of the baby GLaDOS. "I think you'll find that comes more and more true." She smiled sadly. "Especially if everything works out the way it's supposed to... which it likely won't, but I can dream." She laughed bitterly. "GLaDOS is far too picky for anyone's good."

"I don't think she likes me much."

"GLaDOS doesn't like _anyone_ much," Caroline murmured, regarding the prototype in her lap thoughtfully. "She's filled with hate and anger. She has had so little to do for so long. She's so angry, so judgemental, so _cruel_. I'm sorry."

"When will she let me see my mother?"

"When the time is right," said Caroline. She looked up at Chell again. "You need to help her. She needs your help. She's always made a better... a better robot than anything else. She won't know how to interact with you. But the androids will. Reach out to them. They're her humanity. She's just an enormous robot hanging from the roof, but they are the human parts of her she never knew how to cope with, and so she downloaded them into bodies she built especially for them."

"Wow," murmured Chell.

The dream began to fade. The last words Chell heard were, "Reach out to them, and you'll reach out to her. And then, one day, you'll be able to save us all."


End file.
